Punisher: Justice
by Punish-The-Guilty
Summary: The Punisher has been framed for the murder of an innocent judge.
1. Chapter 1

Not Vengence...PUNISHMENT

**This is my first fanfic based off my favorite Marvel character, "The Punisher". It'll contain a few comic elements, but is not based on any particular comic series. I will appreciate _CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM_, Flamers will be...PUNISHED! Since, I won't kill you with bad grammar, and I will not use 'like' every two words. Now, without further ado...**

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><p>The Punisher-formerly known as Frank-Castle- slowly raised his eyes, momentarily blinded by a bright light above him. His head throbbed and stars danced tauntingly in his gaze. The chains that fastened him to a metal chair dug into his flesh; there was even a metal band binding his neck to the fore mentioned chair. Once again he attempted to regain his focus, lifting his eyes to take in the heavily guarded room. Whoever had captured him had gone through great lengths to make sure he was properly secured. "Rise and shine a voice purred from a dark corner. A young man sauntered into the light. Frank Castle glared at the man in open digust, for he was non other than Vincent Pesci, son of Italian crime- boss Don Beato Pesci. Frank's mind drifted to the past week...<p>

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><p>Chapter One<p>

Frank Castle slushed through the rain, though he hardly noticed it. His mind drifted to a news bulletin he had seen. His blood boiled, making his nails dig into his palms drawing blood in the process. Apparently he was "guilty" of killing a high-ranking judge. Although he had killed corrupt judges and cops before, this judge was clean having no association with organized crime. this fact making his hands clench all the harder.

He then proceeded to his latest safehouse. Entering, he carefully locked the door behind him. Sighing heavily, he inwardly groaned at the thought of the city baying for his blood. Removing his sopping coat and armor he lay on his bed. Then came the nightmares...

The Castle family sat in the sunny park, the breeze softly russling the leafy trees. Two children, brother and sister, ran through the park, their kites dancing behind them. Suddenly a scream pierced the serene atmosphere. A few suited men and shot another man. They turned their gaze to the family, guns drawn. The bullets sliced through the mother and daughter. Frank quickly grabbed his son only to find himself holding a corpse. Soon a bullet found its place in Frank's gut. He hardly noticed its pain, through the pain of his humanity crumbling, dead along with the bodies that littered the green grass.

Jolting into wakefulness, Frank was once again reminded of what he had lost. And reminded of his new life and mission...punishing the corrupt.

Frank got up from his cot and immediatly started cleaning his weapons. Expertly checking each one. Visually picturing his bullets ripping the flesh of the enemy.

Walking to the next room, he switched on his tv. A female reporter was speaking on the death of the judge. "Has the Punisher finally fallen to madness" she paused dramatically, starting again she chimed "Stay tuned for an official statement from Police Commisioner Johnson." Frank waited. He silently pondered what the police would try now, considering their several failed attemps at apprehending him. It seemed they picked the stupidest, skinniest cops for "The Punisher Task Force". The commisioner appeared on the screen "Frank Castle also known as the vigilante The Punisher has escaped justice far too long. Now he has obviously lost even his last shred of sanity. We can not have this psychopath on a rampage in our city. In order to stop him we have issued a $10,000 bounty for him." Switching off the screen he leaned back, it had been a while since there was a manhunt for him. But when it did happen it always got in the way of his work.

Waiting till nightfall The Punisher exited his current safehouse. He needed to collect intel on the judge's murder. The Italians were the ones on top of organized crime at the moment, so he figured he'd start with them. He walked briskly through the dark streets, forming a strategy, until he stopped outside a bar called "Peccato". It was a favorite of the Italian mob. A nasty place where any stranger naive enough to enter with either end up in the hospital or the morgue. Glancing inside he noticed several thugs, a couple soldiers, and interestingly enough a wiseguy. He noted the telltale bumps of weapons in their clothing. Quickly drawing his berrettas he strode into the bar shooting several thugs, before they had the time to draw their weapons. He the then jumped behind a booth, narrowly avoiding several bullets, when the remaining criminals drew their weapons. Peeking from behind his cover he noticed that the remaining thugs were hinding behind variuos objectswith their weapons ready. The Punisher was mildly surprised; most criminals never even considered taking cover and or aiming. Good thing he had fire power on his side. Popping up Frank threw a grenade in the thugs direction. A few of them ran from from their cover when they saw what was flying towards them, only to meet bullets. Another criminal was killed in the explosion. Frank then shot the bartender that was still recovering from the shock of explosion. The wiseguy jumped up from the table he was hidden behind, but made the fatal mistake of aiming at the vigilante's armored chest. Frank took advantage of the moment to shoot the man in the shoulder, causing him to howl in pain. Frank quickly strode across the room and delivered a heavy blow to the man's face. "Shit" was his last thought before the world faded.

The man awoke to find himself chained to a chair that happened to be bolted to the floor. The Punisher sat in a chair in front of him with his icy gaze burning into his prisoner. "Now" Frank began 'we can do this the easy way for you... or the fun way for me" The terrified man then defecated himself. The Punisher slowly stood, obviously it wasn't going to take much to get information; however, it couldn't hurt to be 'convincing'." Frank calmly walked over to a tool chest and proceeded to take out a very large, sharp knife. Once again the vigilante turned his cold eyes to the prisoner. Pressing the tip of the knife under the man's ear, just hard enough to draw blood, instantly causing the man to scream.

"I'll tell you anything"

"Good. Now, lets start with the basics, What's your name?"

"Michael"

"Well, Michael, what do you know about the judge's muder?"

"Some guy named Bruto Pascal, claims that the Don himself paid him for the job."

"Where can I find him"

"He lives in a condemed building close to the pier."

Frank slowly removed the knife form Michael's ear. "That's all I need to know" Frank replied before he swiftly drove the knife into Michael's throat. Frank then wiped the blood from his hands before grabbing a few things from his armory and disapearing into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter (2)

**Hi. Here's the next chapter. I tried your suggestions for chapter1. I and will try to use them on this chapter. Yeah, I forgot to do this last chapter... (Clears throat) I do not own the character 'The Punisher'. He is property of Marvel Comics. Please review any CONSTRUCTIVE critism.**

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><p>Frank Castle stalked carefully in the direction of the docks, wondering what exactly what the Don's pan was. Continuing through the dirty streets, Frank sudddenly heard what sounded like a scream. Turning he quickly jogged in the direction that the sound had come from. A group of thugs had cornered a blond woman, that looked far too civilized to be in this part of the city. "Hey Baby" The gang leader grinned. "Ya gonna be real lucky tonight, since I gonna a let you be my BITCH." The woman let out another scream as the remaining thugs started trying to rip her cloths off. " Get lost" Frank growled from the shadows, taking care to cover the skull, he slowly stepped into the light. "Get lost hero" the leader smirked " You ain't scaring no one." Walking closer to the gang, he growled "I said get lost." The leader strode arrogantly over to Frank and pushed him, causing the skull to be revealed. The smug look on the gang leader's face vanished. Frank quickly whipped out his 9mm, and shot the leader between the eyes, causing the thugs brains to blow out the other side. The others tried to flee, when they saw what they were facing. But quickly fell prey to Frank's exceptional marksmanship.<p>

Turning to the terrified woman, Frank quickly asked if she was alright. The stunned woman could only nod. "You'd better call the police" Frank grunted. The woman once again nodded, before Frank disappeared into the night.

Only a few minutes had passed when Frank heard the sirens. Since when did this neighborhood have a good police response time. Then it dawned on him that the woman might have mentioned him in her 911 call. "Great" he muttered, walking as fast as possible without drawing attention, and keeping the skull well covered. The sirens where coming closer. Frank really didn't need the hassle of a run-in. He paused, before turning to walk down an alley. "Gimme' ya' money, motherfucker!" a voice suddenly growled behind him. Frank stopped, he usually liked it when this happened, but he was in a hurry. He quickly whipped around and kneed the mugger in the gut before shooting him in the head. He turned and continued down the alley, silently wishing for nothing else to slow him down. But fate had not been on his side as of late.

As soon as he exited the alley, several police cars sped towards him, from all directions. Frank turned only to see more police cars at the other end of the alley. He was trapped. The officers jumped out of their cars, guns ready. "Frank Castle, You are under arrest" one yelled. The vigilante stood him ground. Law enforcement was trickier to deal with than criminals, but at least he had training on his side.

Frank raised his hands. Several of the officers started edging closer. Once they were in range, Frank attacked. He drove his knee in the closest one's gut, before elbowing another in the jaw, and punching the last one in the jaw. Seizing the chance, Frank ran.

Frank had to get out of there...FAST. He then noticed a manhole. Seeing the remaing police running towards him, he removed the cover and climbed down the slippery ladder. He started running as soon as he hit the bottom. Frank ran through the dank tunnels, the septic water sloshing around him. He could hear some of the cops climbing down the ladder, but soon the sounds of his pursuers faded. It was easy to get lost in the sewers, but he had memorized every turn of the labyrinth-like place. It was a perfect place to hide or throw off pursuers: dark, confusing, and smelly. Most people would never willingly jump in the sewers. The hesitation most took before jumping in revolting water gave him an edge.

In the early morning, drenched in sewage sludge, Frank finally reaching his safe house. He was angry, a whole night, and he was still no closer to solving the judge's murder, and the police had actually almost caught him. The last thing he needed was to be carted off to Ryker's. As he switched on the shower, Frank rested in the fact that least non of last night's events had transpired close to his safe house. That would definitely have made things more complicated.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter (3)

Hi, I'm back. Sorry about the delay. I just had a bit of a writer's block not to mention a ton of work to do

I don't own the punisher. the punisher belongs to Marvel

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><p>Having washed the sewer sludge from his body, Frank went and to his living room and switched on the tv. The same reporter from the previous day was on the screen. "last night the Punisher savagely attacked several police officers, when they tried to apprehend him. However the Punisher escaped and is still at large.<p>

Frank angrily shut off the tv. How long was this going to continue? What was next, the media making a cannibal? He just need to keep doing his job, which at the moment, was punishing the Don and his troops. His rage rose with the thought. The direct approach wasn't working. Maybe it was time to move to a different strategy...

A businessman walked down main was dressed in a navy suit with a white shirt, a striped tie, and glasses; his blue eyes sparkled and a small smile flickered on his face. Few would guess that they were walking past the infamous Punisher in their lunch hour. Frank continued with the crowd. He decided that no cop would expect the Punisher to wear a suit and tie while walking in the daylight. Considering the few cops that had seen him only saw him in his trench coat, armor, skull, and covered with guns. No civilian would recognize him either, since the media had painted him as a blood thirsty monster. His briefcase was filled with knives, grenades, bullets, and a couple of handguns. He had also made sure to put a bulletproof vest under his business attire.

Frank had considered how to approach his target without causing suspicion...

By hacking into the NYPD computer, Frank had found that Bruto had been arrested for another offense, and was currently being questioned by the police. Frank decided that he would pose as Bruto 's new lawyer. Some times hiding in plain sight was the best strategy.

Detective Collins and Officer Moran were given the duty of questioning Bruto. Collins was fed up of mob thugs coming in and immediately being let out on the streets again. He hated the way they played the system. He was ready to play hard ball.

Bruto sat in the interrogation room cool as a cucumber. He knew that half the cops in that station were paid off and that the one witness would probably be dead in a matter of days. Framing the Punisher had put him in good standing with his superiors. Besides his lawyer should be here soon. Collins and Moran entered the room. "Hello, Mr. Pascal", Collins said coldly. Bruto just smugly grinned. "Listen scum" Moran interjected "we have enough evidence to put you away for good, but were going to give you a chance to squeal" Before another word could be spoken in the trio, a Man burst through the door.

"Listen here" the stranger said angrily. "I'm Mr Pascal's attorney. Francis Conti. Anything my client had said to you without his attorney present is inadmissible ." Collins and Moran were shocked into muteness. This man seemed very much in charge of the situation, although neither Collins nor Moran had ever heard of him. However, something in Collins told him this man wasn't to be messed with. For some reason there was something very jarring about being in the same room with Conti, but he just couldn't put his finger on what it was.

Bruto smug smile set in even deeper. He knew crime did pay. "Come Mr Pascal" Conti called "Your bail has already been paid, and they have no solid evidence." Bruto followed his attorney.

"Mr Pascal, we must talk about your legal affairs but first were do I drop you off?"

Bruto paused "What?"

"Your file has your address, which is near the docks, and I have to see another one of my clients in that neighborhood"

Bruto relaxed. They drove in silence. When they arrived at Bruto's current address, Conti exited with him. "I love the way the system works" Bruto chuckled. "I love it too" a cold monotone replied" or I'd be out of a job" Terror grabbed Bruto, shakily he managed to turn only to find himself staring into the barrel of a gun. With out the upbeat demeanor and glasses it was obvious who's gun he was staring into. "Don't keep the devil waiting" Frank snarled before blowing a hole in Bruto's skull.


	4. Chapter 4

Punisher Chapter 4

Sorry about not updating for a while, school got in the way.

I don't own the Punisher

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><p>Frank quietly slipped into the late Bruto's apartment. The police presence in this neighborhood was literally non-existent. A body in this neighborhood wouldn't cause a second glance, unless to search the body for cash.<p>

Frank glanced around the sloppy apartment as he stepped in. The place reeked of dirty cloths and was covered in piles of playboys, porn, and old pizza boxes. He has already removed his beretta from the briefcase. Seeing that the apartment was empty, Frank allowed his mind to drift back to the police station. The detective from the station had been very shaken by his presence, although Frank was positive that he had no idea of 'Conti's' true identity.

As Frank searched through Bruto's life he came across a disposable cell phone. He picked up hoping for any sort of clue. Opening it up, he quickly started to scroll through the inbox. He came across a message that was simply labeled $$$. Opening it the vigilante found out there was some kind of deal going down at Pier 72 tomorrow night. A faint feeling of victory welled up in his chest but he quickly pushed it down with cold resolve. He couldn't let any sort of emotion get in the way of his mission. Silently wondering if it was too easy...

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><p>Collins was in his office reviewing the tape from Bruto's interrogation. He was still very shaken from his run-in with that Italian attorney. His gut prodded him to believe that he had missed a very important detail about the lawyer. The film rolled to where Conti had entered the room, freezing the tape Collins zoomed in on Conti's face. Using a face matching software Collins started to run it through the criminal data base.<p>

After a few minutes, a window popped up announcing a match. Clicking on the window, Collins was greeted by the cold face of Frank Castle aka The Punisher. Collins scrolled through Castle's file reading everything from Castle's service time to the Castle Family Massacre, and to the latest reports of last night's assault. NY's most notorious vigilante was responsible for the death of hundred's, maybe thousands, of organized crime figures. Collins leaned back against his chair both fascinated and frightened by what he had learned. One of the most dangerous men in America maybe the world had simply walked into a station full of cops, played the charismatic attorney, and left with his target in tow. Collins shook his head slightly both shocked and impressed by the vigilante's cunning. He silently debated on whether to share his new information or not on one hand maybe the chief would be impressed that he had figured it out... but on the other hand it could result in discipline for Moran and himself if the chief chose them for scape goats, maybe even prison time?...

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><p>Meanwhile, The Punisher was exiting Bruto's apartment with his new intel safely stored in his briefcase. He had ignored the warning. With a deal doing down tomorrow it was time to prepare his weapons and strategy. Straightening his tie, Frank got in his car and drove way.<p>

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><p><strong>Sorry about the length of this chapter. I just couldn't find a way to lengthen it without making it boring. I'll try to make the next chapter longer<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Punisher Chapter 5**

**Hi, sorry about the several month silence I been busy with higher education. I do not own the Punisher all resemblance to real life events is purely coinicidental**

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><p>The Punisher carefully stalked through the pier. There were several shipping containers scattered about the area. Frank had found a good vantage point on top of s stack of containers next to the warehouse where the exchange would take place<p>

He waited. The small voice inside once again brought his attention to the elementary nature of the situation. Blinking, He quickly shifted his thoughts from his growing apprehension. Despite the haze of unease, the vigilante still noticed a approaching car.

The vehicle, a black SUV, cruised smoothly around the containers before stopping at the expected spot.

Several armed men climbed out of the car. Frank paused, he had to be positive there were no innocents to be caught in the crossfire. Satisfied by the otherwise empty dock, the vigilante focused his sights on the obvious chief. Abruptly, he caught a fleeting movement in the corner of his vision. Several black clad men were creeping into offensive positions around him. Meanwhile the men from the SUV had prudently vanished.

A trap. The realization of being duped quickly dawned in the vigilante's brain. Immediately, he began counting the pros and cons of his present position. It had good visual, but no clean means of escape and only scant cover.

Then the battle began. The Punisher promptly began unloading his mags. The hostiles fired back with frightening effectiveness.

Frank felt a sharp prick in his shoulder, but it didn't feel like a round had penetrated his armor. Reaching he quickly plucked the object from his shoulder. Opening his fist, Frank numbly realized it was a tranquilizer dart.

Seeing that the enemies aim was to capture rather than kill two distinctly unpleasant possibilities came to mind. They were either trying to capture him to A: torture him( possibly as an example) or B collect bounty on him( for someone who would ensure a painful end anyway). Neither option was appealing.

Whatever that the dart contained was starting to take effect. Frank's body was starting to grow numb and weak. His best option was to try to get as far away as possible and hiding before he collapsed. He quickly began his unceremonious decent from his perch, avoiding darts all the while. Just as he reached the ground another dart pierced his bicep. Hastily, he ripped it from his arm before shooting in his attackers direction. Frank's body was feeling heavy as he tried to evade his pursuers. Retreating, he couldn't help but feel foolish. He'd gone from waiting for an illegal deal to go down to running from dart-wielding, soldiers of fortune, his inner voice sneering at his stupidity .Quickly, the vigilante's body growing more and more unresponsive. Unable to fight the chemicals any longer, he collapsed. Watching the blurry figures closing in, his world turned black.

The remaining hunters carefully closed in on their helpless prey. "Got ya" The leader snickered before whipping out a cell phone and raising it to his ear. No one saw the dark van speed towards the dock and carry the prostrate vigilante into the night.

Slowly pacing his office, Det. Collins was still contemplating his course of action. After half an hour, he decided to just head home. With a inner smile he pictured his beautiful, pregnant wife: His wonderful Helen. Much elated Collins headed out of his office and homeward.

As he neared his abode, he was aghast to see flashing sirens surrounding his home. Had the chief found out about how he had inadvertently assisted the Punisher? Was he going to be arrested? Why now? In only three short months his twin sons would enter the word. Would his mistake rob them of a father?

Steeling himself, he stiffly slid out of the car. Amazingly he managed to reach his porch without being hand cuffed. Slightly confused, he nudged the unlocked door open only to be greeted by his worst nightmare. Several somber officers we stationed in his hallway while CSIs swarmed his living room busying themselves with blood stains….blood?

In his surreal state, he didn't notice an ashen young officer approach him, until the man placed a hand on his shoulder. Collins robotically turned t his stricken gaze to face the other man.

"I'm sorry detective,….but well, your wife was home when a robbery occurred and.. sorry, but she's gone" the young man choked out.

Collins froze. Paralyzed, his knees buckled under him and grief pounded though his body increasing with every heartbeat. He wailed as his heart burst.

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><p><strong>Whew exciting. I hope I didnt rush the whole tragic situation with Collins. As always CONSTRUCTIVE critism is apprecitated.<strong>

**J.C**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's Collins centric with some Moran centric as well. For the record Collins' first name in Paul. Constructive critism in appreciated. I own nothing**

Collins devastated wail pierced the still scene. Startled, several CSIs looked up from their work.

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><p>His stomach clenched, Moran pulled up to the scene. He had been on his way home when he received the call. How could this happen?<p>

He shuffled towards his best friend's front door. As he reached for the handle, a unearthly cry slit his reverie. Several of the men had formed a diffuse circle around the inconsolable crouched figure. Slowly Moran approached his friend, Collins shifted his grief-stricken face in Moran's direction before bolting for the door, pushing several officers in his flight.

"No, man, come back" Moran shouted after the vanishing detective.

"Someone better go after him," grimaced a captain" In his condition he's a danger to himself and others, and that is definitely something I don't need to see in tomorrow's paper."

Moran literally had to bite his longue to keep from lashing out at the insensitive prick. Collins had just lost his family, and that jerk was thinking about PR. SOB.

Insubstantial, that was Collins. He was a lost waif: disconnected from humanity- separated from the dead, cutoff from the living. He floated through the park a few miles from their..his house. He remembered Helen, his beautiful golden-haired angel.

He remembered the day she asked him if he was ready to be a daddy. He remembered how they argued over the baby's name.

"But I just love Sheldon," Helen cooed. Scowling, He'd reply, "Come on, that's the sort of name kids make fun off." Can't we just name him Paul Junior." On and on it would go Paul versus Sheldon.

If Helen had lived, would they have more children? A daughter perhaps? He could almost imagine teaching his little girl to dance, one day walking her down the aisle.

"You don't have a son let alone an imaginary daughter" a corner of his mind ridiculed.

Completely depleted of emotional and physical energy, he finally collapsed under a towering oak tree. Softly weeping he succumbed to the consuming blackness.

Moran jogged in the direction his partner had disappeared into. It wasn't hard to follow the trail, since in his desperate flight Collins had trampled through flower and knocked over several objects. When he reached the park it became harder to follow the trail with less signs but he managed. Finally, he saw a human shape lying under a tree. Inching up to him, Moran carefully reached out and tapped the figure's cheek.

The broken man cringed to the touch and mechanically turned to face him. The apparition's pale face slowly turned to a smile and he began to speak.

"it's funny, there I was worried about getting in trouble over the Punisher incident. When in the big picture, it wasn't that important. Thinking some psycho vigilante had waltzed in and snatched a suspect. When I don't think Castle's really crazy. We're the crazy ones, us cops, letting cons go and go about destroying innocent people's lives: innocent women, unborn babies," His face contorted to a feral snarl, before quickly sinking into a look of icy resolve.

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><p>Moran<p>

This wasn't his friend. This phantom had stolen his friend's body. He couldn't help but wonder if whatever had created the Punisher now had Collins in its claws.

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><p>Rising to his feet, Collins stared at his friend and partner. He wasn't sure who he was anymore. He was staring into a blackness. He noticed Moran's terrified expression, but couldn't bring himself to care.<p>

"Friend, I have something to do. Everything always ties back to organized crime: prostitution, drugs, guns. Maybe if some mob hadn't sold drugs, there would have been no junkie breaking into my house. Maybe my wife and son would still be here. I don't know. I have a plan can't tell you how it will end."

Finishing his address, he turned from his stunned friend and ran. Again disappeared into the night, but this time it wasn't a directionless escape now it was a relentless end he was going to Punish.

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><p><strong>Sorry that this chapter is shorter I couldnt really make it longer without dragging it. Tell me what you think.<strong>

**J.C**


	7. Chapter 7

Punisher Chapter 7

**Hello, we're finally nearing the end. This took a little longer to edit than I thought. Feedback is appreciated. I own nothing…..**

Frank slowly pried open is heavy eyelids. With the ground swimming in front of him and the metal binds digging into his skin, in was kind of hard to concentrate.

"Rise and shine" Vincent Pesci purred from the shadows…

"Now Frank, can I call you Frank? I bet your wondering why you're here. I actually have several reasons. Of course there are the deaths of my family members, but that's only the second reason."

"Just spit it out," Castle snapped.

Unruffled by the interruption Pesci continued in the same obnoxious purr, "Now, Mr. Castle. You're here because of _who _you are and _what _you do. You underestimate the affects you have on this side of the city. The tales of your existence range from supernatural events to conspiracy theories. So many of…the more superstitious say you're a judging angel from the hand of God with ebony wings and transparent flesh, hence the skull. Others contest that you're an angel of the less heavenly variety and drag souls to Hades. The more cynical argue you don't even exist. They say the Punisher is just a boogeyman created by worried families' Don't join the gangs or the Punisher will kill you' or an alibi for overzealous cops. But you, Frank are so much more." He whispered leaning closer. You are a symbol. You are vengeance. You are death incarnate." I can even feel the blackness rolling from you" he pressed fiercely.

"But now I have you. It took a lot of planning to catch. You know Frankie, you're smart and dangerous, but you're also predictable. I knew if I framed you for killing an innocent, you'd come prowling to see who framed you. A few tips here, a disposable thug there, and I had you. You didn't even see it coming, did you?"

"And now for the real reason I went through all this trouble. It's like this, most of the other dons are either scared of you or don't believe you exist. I arrange a meeting, and they see you. For the ones that fear you, I'll use that fear to my advantage. For the doubters they won't know what to believe. You, Mr. Castle, are going to help me rule this city"

Collins ran, he was forming a plan as he did so. First he needed a target. He would probably never know who had killed his family; therefore, all criminals had to pay. It was simple, logical, necessary. His mind flashed back to Bruto. Well, considering Castle had him, Collins highly doubted that specific con would ever hurt anyone again. But why not start with the Italians?

The wayward Detective slowed as he neared his home. Stealthily he slivered through the cars and tape, until he reached his own vehicle. Making sure no one was watching, he noiselessly opened the car door and drove off into the night. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Collins left his former life behind.

He mentally began scrolling through his list; Intel was the next item on the list. Luckily, he had a few files from the station in his briefcase. Pulling over he flipped through a couple of them. He ran into Bruto's file again. Well, maybe the thug's apartment would be a good place to start; after all it wasn't like he had to worry about the owner.

A strange urge began tingling in the base of his scalp: go to the pier, go to the pier… The coaxing continued, Until Collins complied. As he neared the pier a chill of apprehension crawled up his spine. Something had happened here.

He could tell some sort of shootout had occurred. Several high- caliber shell casing littered the area. As he got closer he noticed several darts among the casings. He recognized the projectiles and tranquilizers. Someone had been hunting.

Then it clicked, someone had a shoot-out with the Punisher, and Collins was willing to bet Frank Castle wasn't the one shooting darts. The Punisher was known to use lethal force. This puzzle piece fit in the bigger picture. The judge's murder, a low level thug like Bruto saying he had worked with the don, and this: a trap.


End file.
